The Idiot Love Interest
by SabrinaTeenagedB
Summary: Stiles Stilinski is an idiot. Ask anyone, except Derek Hale (unless you want even more rude descriptive words to describe him). He was an idiot, to everyone but Avery McDonald, that is. At least, until he stood her up. Stiles/OC
1. Prologue

Avery McDonald was what some would call a wallflower. There were literally only a handful of people in the entirety of Beacon Hills High that ever acknowledged her presence; Boyd, Erica, Isaac, etc.

Unfortunately these people soon became too cool to socialise with her and she was left to her solitude. She didn't mind, honestly, she was glad to have time to herself, to work on projects… Keep up with homework and such.

This just meant she was bored more often, as well as lonely…and left to daydream a lot. But daydreams were good- perhaps a little too good, if Avery was honest. The crush she had been harbouring for about ten years now was honestly ruining her life.

The guy she was crushing on was just _too_ cute. And also sarcastic. As well as funny and smart. Plus his spastic nature and gestures. He was also nerdy. And- well Stiles Stilinski was a lot of things; one of these things being the object of Avery's affection for many years.

Before being completely ditched by her old friends; Erica Reyes, Isaac Lahey, etc, Avery was told that she should just ask Stiles out. It sounded simple enough, but it had taken her exactly 379 days to build up enough courage to ask Stiles Stilinski to accompany her to the new movie that had come out in the small, slightly rundown, yet cute, local theatre.

"Pick me up at eight?"

"Sure." Stiles smiled at her, before walking down the hallway, albeit awkwardly whilst trying to catch up with Scott, whom had already made it down the hall, which left Avery to sigh dreamily as she watched him walk away.

She finally had a date with the guy of her dreams. What could go wrong?

The answer to that question came later on that night, in the form of her waiting outside her house on her front porch, dressed ever so pretty for the 'love of her life' – for over six hours. Stiles had never shown up.

Her face, which had been painted ever so delicately with flattering make-up, was now stained by the salty tears that she had shed when she finally accepted that he was never coming. Her clothes, the outfit she had planned to perfection in her head for at least three months, were now severely rumpled and slightly damp from the moisture in the air that night.

Not only was she entirely and ridiculously embarrassed, but she was also completely and utterly heartbroken.

"Wow, you look like a wreck."

It was new week, a brand new, fresh Monday morning at Beacon Hills High and Avery McDonald simultaneously looked, as well as felt, like complete shit. She stood next to one of the only friends she had left in her company; Georgia White.

"Thanks so much, really appreciate it." Avery looked well and truly non-Avery-ish. Where she usually wore cute floral or printed shirts, skirts and dresses she was wearing sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt that was usually found on someone who was heading to the gym; which Avery was not. "He didn't show."

Georgia let out a half wheeze, half gasp; but that was due to the simple fact that Georgia was sick, in a cancery way. She was suffering from lung cancer so, for this reason, she was carrying an air tank that was attached to nose and had 'shorter than most girls' hair', as she herself said. "What the hell do you mean he didn't show?" She slammed her locker shut to look more closely at her friend. "And also, why the _actual fuck_, did you not tell me when he decided to be an asshole and not show up?"

Georgia was honestly her rock. Without her she would have not been where she is today.

"Georgia, you were in hospital remember? All weekend. And you're also not allowed to use your phone in there." Like Avery, Georgia had recently become an older sister, which had been the reason she was in the hospital since then end of school on Friday.

"That literally doesn't matter when my best friend ever is heartbroken."

The bell went overhead.

"It honestly doesn't matter." Avery smiled slightly, although she looked pained, walking towards the math class the two friends shared. On the way she looked down the hallway and felt her heart break even further.

Stiles was holding hands with Lydia outside her locker, laughing with all their friends. Scott and Allison were there, also holding hands, looking very much like Stiles and Lydia, although they were an actual couple- which Stiles and Lydia weren't… right?


	2. Chapter 1: Annoying, Spastic Asshole

_Avery was ecstatic that Friday night, as she slowly curled her hair into a tasteful, slightly messy, bun. She had already laid out her outfit for the night; a black, faux leather skirt, a plain, white tank top and cute black, faux leather ankle boots. It was fairly warm that night, was probably going to shower later that night, but she knew that the weather in Beacon Hills always did complete 180's, so she had also placed a small, but thick jacket with her purse on the bed, just in case._

_"__We'll see you on Sunday." Her mother, Dianna Moran, smiled at her from the doorway. Her baby girl was going on her first date ever that night. "Don't do anything silly now."_

_The older woman smiled even wider at her daughter, who blushed a bright red at the inference, as her husband; Troy Moran, walked into the room. "You ready?" He winked at his step-daughter, who rolled her eyes playfully, when he noticed her nervousness, "You look beautiful."_

_Troy, Dianna and their son, Taylor, were travelling to a few towns over to visit Troy's mother. The only reason that Avery was not going to was because she felt very uncomfortable being around her step-father's family, still very unused to their awkward greetings and such. "Yep, let me just give my baby girl a kiss." Dianna walked over with Troy, then they both kissed the top of Avery's head, before exiting. They trusted her completely._

_Avery went back to finishing her hair, before moving onto make-up, all whilst trying to deal with the massive butterflies that flew at a rapid pace around her stomach._

_She was just so excited._

Avery was taken out of her sad little flashback when Lydia Martin sat beside her in math. She smiled at Avery kindly, she even asked to borrow a pencil and Avery began to feel a little hope, maybe it was all a mistake.

That was until later on that day, at lunch.

They were all there, of course. Vernon Boyd, Erica Reyes, Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall, Allison Argent, Stiles Stilinski and Lydia Martin, were all sitting at their stupid little table, not aware of the hurt, tearful eyes watching them.

It hurt. So very much.

Not only had Avery and Georgia lost their friends to their stupid little group, but now Avery had lost Stiles, the guy she was in love with, to Lydia.

They were laughing and eating food, as well as talking, when it happened. Lydia leaned over to Stiles, who was sitting right next to her, and kissed him on the mouth, making their entire group cat-call and howl at them in joy.

_She was going to be sick_. Avery jumped out of her seat, rushing to their nearest exit, tears in her eyes, as well as on her cheeks.

Erica, one of Avery's old friends saw as she headed out, in the direction of the closest toilets, then turned to Georgia and saw her attempting to gather both their bags, food and her tank to follow.

Erica lowered her gaze to her food, suddenly herself feeling sick. Back before she had become on of the creatures people heard about in bedtime stories or nightmares, she herself had a crush on Stiles Stilinski. That had been what bonded herself and Avery; their unrequited love for the annoying spastic. Although, Erica knew that she would never feel for him the way Avery did.

She closed her eyes, which was a feat as she wore a heavy amount of mascara that day, and began attempting to block out all the noise. She honed in on the sound of sobbing that came from the direction that Avery ran, as well as attempted reassurances that she assumed were from Georgia.

Erica didn't feel anything in that moment, apart from terrible, crushing guilt. After all, it had been Erica that had been the one to tell Avery to go for it, all that time ago, to chase Stiles Stilinski- which in return had gotten her friend hurt.

"Are you okay, Erica?" Allison Argent questioned the blonde. She was constantly worrying for the members of the pack, something she felt necessary as she was an ex-hunter and also dating the Alpha. With a weak, but fake, smile Erica began to reassure the dark haired female.

"I'm fine, really."

Avery had been given a note to leave school when Georgia had noticed that her sobs had turned into retching, and then called the nurse. Avery had literally sobbed so hard she was sick.

Her step-father picked her up and pulled her close once she was in their family SUV. Troy was honestly the father she had never had in her life. He never asked her what was wrong because he knew that if she wanted to tell him, she would. Troy had been with Dianna since Avery was young, although the two had only married last year, wanting to join their families, especially after Avery's half-brother, Taylor, had been born a few years previous. All of this meant that Troy was more of a father figure to her than the father she was born with, who had run off with a waitress when she was about three.

"Wanna get pizza?"

Troy worked from home a lot, as he was a private tutor and music teacher, which meant he was the chauffer of the family. He pulled out of the hug, leaning back into his seat as his dark eyes began to peer out of the windshield, pulling out from the school parking lot. Troy knew that one of Avery's most beloved foods was pizza, along with such classics as French fries, curly fries, ice cream and churros, which is why whenever he caught Avery at a sad or depressed moment he would immediately ask if she wanted any of these confectionaries.

"Yeah." Avery was quieter than usual, which was disgusting to Troy as he felt that the one place she should be able to be free and be herself is in front of him and their beautiful family.

Troy smiled sympathetically in her direction, before turning back to the road, "Do you want to pick up Taylor first?" Avery loved her little brother; they were connected in ways that was surprising to many people, both because they shared different fathers and because of the age difference.

Avery smiled widely at her step-father, "I'd like that."

After eating almost a whole pizza to herself, Avery sat quietly in her room, staring at the wall opposite her bed, contemplating on how messed up her life had become in just three days.

It wasn't even her fault, to be honest. It was his. She had been brave, for what she believed the first time in her life, when she asked out Stiles, she knew that. It was completely and utterly all down to Stiles being a surprising asshole, who deserved to be hit, hard… by a truck.

Avery decided then and there that she would begin her journey to letting go of her affections towards the annoying, spastic asshole; Stiles Stilinski.


	3. Chapter 2: Chasing After The Little Shit

Many people over the age thirty enjoyed the presence that Avery McDonald offered, simply because she was far more mature, patient and kinder than many other teenagers. People such as her teachers, her parents, her grandparents and the parents of her friends all thought she was the most delightful girl they had met. This also included the Sheriff of Beacon Hills; John Stilinski.

The Sheriff had known Avery for a long time, ever since she was the tender age of three. Back then, Avery had been devastated by her father's disappearance and she herself had attempted to run away. Her mother was frantic, completely wrecked when she turned around at the park one day to find her daughter missing, and had then phoned the police at once, desperate to find her. Sheriff Stilinski, who was then a deputy, had been the one to find her, then convince the oddly mature three years old to return to her home.

"Avery!" Sheriff Stilinski had lightly jogged over to where he spotted the young girl. They were on the main road into Beacon Hills, surrounded by the dense forest that surrounded the entire town.

"Hello Sheriff!" Avery smiled widely, standing up from her kneeling position on the floor. "How are you?" She had noticed him earlier, but there had been others around, such as deputies, civilians and what looked to be a crash site, so she had restrained herself form greeting him.

"Alright," Sheriff stood smiling, his hands on his hips, just above his belt that held up his pants (like usual belts) as well as carried his side arm. "There's been an accident," he pointed behind him to the crash site, "Someone swerved to 'avoid a deer' apparently." The Sheriff said, using his hands to show the quotation marks.

"Drink-driving?" Avery smiled innocently, whilst hitting the nail on the head.

The Sheriff laughed and nodded, telling her that she was correct. It was then he noticed that she was standing at the trunk of her car, with her tool box open in said trunk, with one of her tyres off and a wrench in her hand. "Is everything alright?"

Avery let out a laugh, "I'm just switching my tyres over; I got a flat and pretty sure that I ran over a nail."

"If you want I can give you a lift home and call a tow truck."

"I'm good, but thanks." Avery smiled, before leaning into her trunk and physically dragging out a large, black spare tyre (with some difficulty). She let out a quiet grunt when it finally fell on the floor, "It's not the first time this car has broken down on me." Her car was old, it was a vintage 1968 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28 and she _loved_ it. Perhaps a little too much. Avery had even named it.

Sally.

It was then that Avery realised two things, the first being that it was incredibly late now, at least that is what the pitch black sky was telling her, later confirmed by her glance at her watch – it was now nine o'clock at night, an hour passed her weekday curfew. The second thing Avery realised was that it was cold, which- around Beacon Hills- was an indication that it was definitely going to rain. Perhaps she should get a lift home.

"Actually, Mr Stilinski, a ride home would be really nice." She, with help from the Sheriff, put the tyre back into her trunk and then locked up, walking with the older man to his cruiser.

After putting on his seatbelt the Sheriff turned to the girl in the passenger seat, "That car costs you a lot of money, right?" He waited for her to nod before asking, "So why keep it?"

It was a while before Avery answered and the Sheriff was beginning to think he had offended her, so he looked away and started the car. "It belonged to my grandfather." She had said it plainly, which made the Sheriff take his eyes off the road for a split second to look at her. "He worked a really long time as a mechanic, at first it was just to get the car her dreamed about, that car, but then it was to pay for a wedding, a child, their future, etc." Avery paused when they stopped outside her house, before turning to the Sheriff, "My father never really thanked his parents ever, even though they supported him his entire life- they even supported us when I was a baby 'cause my dad couldn't." She sighed, looking up at her house, "When my father left, Troy bought my granddad that car, as a way to apologise for 'taking' his son's place. But granddad never thought about it that way, he always said he simply thought that his daughter-in-law deserved better than his own son, but he accepted it anyway." Avery giggled, "He just _really_ wanted the car. So when he died, he left it to the granddaughter who also 'deserved better'."

The Sheriff smiled sadly, understanding on his face. "He sounds like an amazing person."

"Oh, he was. He was also very funny, a touch racist and _incredibly_ sarcastic."

The Sheriff smirked, "I'm familiar with sarcastic." He paused, wondering if she knew his son, "Stiles is the most sarcastic person in the world." At Avery's straight face he understood that she was _clearly_ familiar with his only child. "Well, you better get inside, after all; you have school tomorrow."

Avery smiled weakly, emotionally drained from the last week, plus the memories or her grandfather as well as hearing about Stiles, from his own father. "Thanks again, Sheriff." She got out, smiled at him, waving slightly before jogging towards her house, trying to avoid the rain that she had predicted that would fall.

God, she was beginning to dislike her life.

It was later that week when she saw Stiles once more. It was after school had finished and Avery was with her little brother in the grocery store, picking up their family's weekly shop. Stiles was also there, with his father, whom had insisted he join them – the reason for this unknown to Stiles himself, but he still managed to complain about it.

"Avery!" Taylor giggled as his sister tickled him as he sat in the seat at the front of the shopping cart. "Stop, please!"

"I don't know… you've been very _naughty_!" As soon as the last words exited her lips she swooped down to tickle her little brother once more. His reaction was immediate. Shrieks and tears of laughter erupted from the boy like lava from a volcano.

"Avery?" The girl in question froze when she heard her own name fall out of the lips of none other than Stiles Stilinski… _Could she not catch a break?_ Honestly, she would rather be struck by lightning than have to suffer through any conversation this (rubbish) greeting could possibly lead to.

At least her getting struck by lightning could lead to her gaining special skills or powers, which then of course would lead her to becoming a superhero… What would she call herself? Avery considered it, before deciding it would all depend on what power she would gain.

"Avy?" Taylor poked his sister, whom was staring passed Stiles in a dazed manner, who himself was beginning to feel uncomfortable – something that would later make Avery slightly sadistically happy.

"Huh?" Avery snapped out of her trance, where she was contemplating a serious career in becoming a superhero (with or without a power, after all; if Batman could do it, why couldn't she?), just as Stiles father turned the corner, with his own shopping cart.

"Stiles, why would you leave the cart alone?" The Sheriff spoke to his delinquent-like son that had abandoned both him and the cart in the pasta aisle, before spotting Avery and smiling widely. "Hello there, Avery!"

"Hi Sheriff!" Avery smiled at him, incredibly relieved that she won't be forced into an awkward conversation with his son now that the parental unit had arrived. "How are you?"

"I'm good." The Sheriff smiled before looking at the young boy who was slightly hiding behind his sister in the cart, "Is this Taylor? He's so big now!"

"I'm a big boy now!" Taylor cheered, throwing his hands in the air.

The Sheriff chuckled, before turning to his son, "So why did you leave the cart?"

Stiles awkwardly stared at his dad, not really sure why he wanted to talk to Avery in the first place – he just did. He thinks she's been avoiding him, but he was not sure as to why – he remembers her asking him something about a week ago, but had been in such a rush to go with Scott to do wolfy business that he just said yes to everything she said and walked away. Maybe he had offended her?

"No reason."

Avery was crushed. First off all she's stood up, now she's not even important enough to be explained to his dad? If she didn't hate him already, she did now. Why did she spend so many years chasing after this little shit?

"We should go. Bye." God, Avery hated herself right now. She was genuinely tearing up. She hated that he could make her feel so bad about herself. _What did she do to deserve this?_, Avery thought as she turned to go home. She was a good girl, never did anything she shouldn't, not a toe out of line.

…Maybe that was the problem?


	4. Chapter 3: Why Did You Hit My Boyfriend?

After one disastrous interaction at the grocery store, Avery ventured out of building at a very fast pace towards her car, with her little brother, whom was very confused, in tow. She was forcefully throwing her shopping bags into the trunk of her car whilst thinking of ways to escape the country when she heard him.

"Avery?" She froze, before turning to Stiles, tears that she didn't even know that had sprung were clear for all to see in her eyes. "Can we talk, you've been avoiding me all week and, to be honest, I really want to know why-" The loud smack of skin hitting skin with incredible force resonated through out the parking lot.

Avery had hit him. Right across his right cheek, with her own right hand and it went red almost immediately.

"You are _next level_ rude." She spoke lowly, beyond hurt and felt very betrayed. Hell, he had made her hit him and she was never a violent person. This was actually the closest she's ever been to being in a fight.

Stiles stood still, hand on his face and eyes wide open, surprise, pain and confusion swimming in his hazel orbs.

"I ask you out and then I wait for _six hours_ for you to show up!" Avery sneered at him, "Then you show up to school _three days later_ with _Lydia Martin_? Do you have any _idea_ of **_how_**_ humiliated_ I feel?" She never give him a chance to answer before she threw the rest of her shopping into the trunk, grabbed Taylor and practically broke several driving violations escaping the damn parking lot.

"Wait a minute. When did she ask you out?" Scott was confused, but also mad at the man he called his best friend. How the actual hell could he forget a date with such a beautiful, willing girl like Avery? After all, Stiles was never, absolutely, ever asked on a date. Hell, he barely asked anyone out himself.

"I think it must have last week, you know, when I was rushing to go with you to Derek's. She was talking to me but we needed to go, so I was just saying yes to everything she said." Stiles paused, sitting down harshly on Scott's bed, "Shit. She probably was asking me out and now I probably look like a dick!"

Scott let out a tired chuckle and nodded, "You're a dick."

Stiles nodded softly, before dramatically flopping backwards until his head was touching the bed, "I am a dick."

"You told him off?" Georgia giggled and her laughter came out slightly wheezy as her whole body shook with the force of her joy. "That's the best thing you've told me in _so_ long." She laid on her best friend's bed, the other girl in question (Avery) sat on her black spinning desk chair, behind her desk. "So," she paused, devastatingly scared that her friend might take this the wrong way, "Does this mean you're finally over him?"

Avery let out a forced, dark chuckle, "Honestly?" She waited for a nod from her friend before continuing, "I'm just sick of hearing all of this shit." She leant back, her blonde hair tumbling over the back of the chair, she ran her hands over her face. "I was _brave_. And I was _strong_ when I asked Stiles out, after so many years of wishing and wanting and waiting. I've always been so scared to do _anything_ and when I finally _do something_;_ I'm hurt_." Avery felt tears once again gather in the corner of her eyes.

Georgia rushed over to her friend as fast as she could, although she did struggle to untangle her leg from the comforter at one point, and pulled the girl into a hug as she broke into tears.

"Shhh." Georgia stroked her head, "It's okay."

But Avery shook her off and stood, walking towards the vintage, white wood-stained dresser that sat beneath her large, gold bordered mirror. She stared at her own reflection for a while, before looking down and staring at the photograph that sat on the dresser. It was of her family, before her father left. Her mother and father _looked_ happy, but they weren't.

Her father and then Stiles.

"It seems that I drive away anyone whom I love."

It was once again Monday and Avery was once again forced into the realisation that she would be forced to face the demons that lay in wake for her in hell. Or as she was forced to call it; high school.

She walked in slowly, her head bowed and her eyes glued to the floor. Avery was going to get through this week like she did the weekend, with modifications of course. On weekdays she wasn't able to hide in the safe comfort of her bedroom, at least according to both her mother and social convention. So, here she was - avoiding people and also slightly wanting to bolt out of the building faster than Barry Allen himself.

"Why did you hit my boyfriend?" As soon as the words were said a pair of brightly coloured (fluorescent yellow) high heels appeared into Avery's view of the ugly, linoleum floor. Soon Avery was forced to trail her eyed up the short, but uncomfortably pretty, build of Lydia Martin. The girl didn't look incredibly unhappy, mostly confused with a touch of jealousy. _Was Lydia Martin jealous of her?_, Avery thought.

"I, uh, don't know what you mean." It was a lie, one that was easily detected by the red head, whom raised her eyebrows in an unconvinced manner. Avery thought silently that this may possibly result in her participating in her second ever fight.

"Lie." Lydia stated the word, loudly and managed to gain a small audience that scrutinised the two girls with avid eyes. "Tell me why."

Avery tried desperately to shrink into the white half tank and pale blue cardigan she wore, with little success. "I just want to get to my locker, please." She also tried (unsuccessfully) to get passed the other girl, whilst also avoiding making eye contact with her, or the crowd that had formed.

Lydia opened her mouth, ready to verbally assault the blonde girl who stood in front of her, but was cut off by the morning bell going off, warning everyone that they were now late for homeroom. Loud, unhappy groans emitted from the crowd, but Avery had never been more relieved in her life and almost _ran_ to her locker before heading at a slightly slower (but still pretty fast) pace towards her homeroom.

She felt like she had literally just managed to avoid some kind of old Western showdown in the hallway.

Erica Reyes stormed up to Lydia Martin later that day, her dark blond curls flying out behind her and her eyes held glints of bright yellow, Boyd walking at a fast pace behind her attempting to prevent any fight that would ultimately break out at this point. "Why did you corner Avery McDonald this morning?" Was the first thing out of Erica's lips when she approached the table that their group usually sat at, also managing to smack her hands against the table-top gaining the entirety of the pack's attention.

Stiles's head snapped towards the girl who sat next to him, "What?" He looked at his girlfriend, suddenly feeling angry and also very guilty that he had been the one to start all of this drama. "You cornered Avery this morning?"

Lydia flipped her hair over her shoulder, getting it out of the way of her eyes. "So what?"

Erica's eyes flashed brilliant gold, forcing Scott (who sat on the chair next to where she stood) to yank her into her own chair before other students saw. The blonde girls took a deep breath in through her nose, forcing herself to calm down and gaining an approving nod from the older werewolf. "Why did you start shit with her this morning?" Every word out of Erica's mouth was sharp, her eyes narrowing at the girl that she (to be honest) didn't always like, or appreciate.

"She hit Stiles." Lydia spoke honestly, grabbing the pack's attention and forcing them all to lean in, curious as to what she was going to say. "He wouldn't tell me why, so I asked someone else instead."

Stiles ran one of his large hands down his face in exasperation, his eyes looking over to where the blonde girl in question sat with her friend who had an air tank. _I'm a horrible person_, Stiles thought to himself. If he had only not been in such a rush that day, this never would have happened.

"So why did she hit him?" Isaac asked casually, waving the fry he was going to eat in Stiles direction, silently telling him to answer instead of his girlfriend.

But Lydia answered anyway, "She denied ever hitting him."

Erica spat out, "If she did hit him, the idiot probably deserved it."

Scott stared at his best friend with a look that told Stiles to do the right thing; to confess all, to make it up to all parties involved (but more Avery than Lydia) and to admit to himself that Avery deserves to be taken on the date she had planned for the two of them, whether Stiles was dating Lydia or not. Although, by now Scott should come to terms with the fact that neither he, nor Stiles, listened to one another.

Stiles sat in his room later that night silently, after having refused Lydia's enticing offer to go to her house after school to 'study'. He lay out on his unmade bed, looking over to his shelves were various books were homed, many of the newer copies being about the supernatural and all things mythical. There was a space on the shelf, where one of the books was missing. He knew which book it was too.

**Psychic Abilities and the Supernatural Creatures That Have Them**.

He had taken it to Lydia's house the night he was meant to go on a date with Avery, after a two minute phone call from Lydia saying she was interested in finding out more on her Banshee heritage. Although very little reading had taken place that night.

Stiles sighed, moving his head to face his plain ceiling, wondering when his father would return from the station. _Was he really going to ask his father about Avery?_ Yes, he was.

Stiles had to make it up to her. Somehow, at least.

He did break her heart after all.


	5. Chapter 4: An Old Fashioned Mystery

Avery McDonald lived what Georgia referred to as a 'hermit life'. At least she does now, years earlier it was really touch and go for Avery, as she got in with what parents would call a 'bad crowd', this was also the last time she ever did anything remotely 'bad', until she hit Stiles that is. Her old life ended up with her in the hospital at the age of thirteen, which happens to be where she met her friend Georgia.

Georgia had been in the hospital bed beside hers in their small room, she had no hair then, but she did have the biggest smile when Avery had been wheeled inside the room. Georgia informed her that she was the person (aside her family) she had seen since her chemo. After endless persistence, Georgia managed to get through the wall that the then rebellious Avery built up.

Georgia changed her life after they met. Georgia saved her from not only the life she had been leading, but also; herself.

And now she was dead. She was gone.

"We are gathered here today to remember the shining light in all of our lives that was Georgia White." Georgia wasn't all that religious but her parents insisted on a funeral for her in the church. "Taken from our lives by the cruel hand of fate, her memory lives on with the people she knew and had touched with her light."

Georgia died because she fell down her stairs whilst home alone - her parents had been taking her younger sibling to a doctors appointment to check for any complications since they had left the hospital a few weeks earlier. She had been unable to move and had run out of air whilst incapacitated. It was almost like all her fighting against her cancer had been for nothing after all and it made Avery feel sick to her stomach.

"Now her best friend, Avery, would like to say something in remembrance."

There were tons of people from school there. This also made Avery want to vomit; they hadn't known her, they had no right to be there and act like they knew her. Erica was there, along with her group of assholes, including Stiles, Lydia and Scott. They all had sorrowful looks on their faces, as if they knew what Avery was going through. But they didn't and now Avery was alone.

She quietly walked past everyone continuously avoiding eye contact, walking towards the little podium that she was meant to stand at to give her eulogy. Avery passed the pastor and thanked him almost silently for her introduction. She stood there, in front of everyone beginning to remember her slight fear of crowds before her eyes focused on the glossy, black coffin that held her best friend.

"My name is Avery McDonald." The words came out of her mouth, before she even knew what she was doing, "I am Georgia's best friend… Or, I was." Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to shed them, Georgia had seen too many of her tears and she'll be damned if she saw any more. "Not many of you will know this, but Georgia saved me a long time ago, she saved me from myself. To be honest, she's continued to save me ever since as well. The passed month has been hard for me. Really hard."

A lone tear slid down her face, even though she was willing herself to hold it back. Sometimes Avery wished she was the cop from Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, as he had the emotional stability of a well cemented building. Her eyes scanned the crowd that had gathered in the church, her orbs landing on Georgia's weeping family who stood next to her own weeping family. She continued roving the crowd, looking for one person in particular and felt an immense amount of relief when she found him. The Sheriff was standing next to his son's group, but his eyes (which held understanding and comfort) remained on her own, giving her strength to carry on.

"She's been my rock, my source of comfort for a long time, something she didn't need to do, but gladly did anyway and for that I will continue to be eternally grateful. That's the way Georgia was, she thought of others before herself and she never asked for anything in return. My only wish, apart from wishing she was still with us and able to grow up as well as see her little sister grow up; is that I had been able to repay her in some way." Avery took in a shuddering breath, "Because she deserved it, completely. Georgia was the best thing that happened in a long time to Beacon Hills and we should never ever forget her or how strong she was." She let out a small chuckle to at the ending statement she had written, "After all, she not only survived cancer, but also most of high school." There was a small croaky laugh from the crowd, through their own tears and Avery thanked them all, before rushing away from the podium.

Avery watched from under the arms of her step-father and the Sheriff, tears streaming down her face as she watched her best friends coffin being lowered into her grave. Georgia wasn't in it, she was in an urn after being cremated, but she wanted to have her own plot in her family's cemetery, next to her older brother who had died not long after being born, almost nineteen years ago.

Her gravestone was simple, reading 'Georgia Loren White, Beloved Friend and Daughter, Cancer Survivor, Vampire Diaries Lover'.

"Do want to be alone?" Troy was honestly the best person in her life right now, he truly understood that she would need to be alone at times, but also that she would sometimes need comfort.

Avery nodded slowly, her eyes not leaving where her friend's grave stood and wrapped her arms around her tighter when the two arms left her body.

"Call us if you need us." It was the Sheriff that has spoken, but Troy had nodded along before they both left the cemetery. Avery was sitting now, right next to the gravestone, her head resting on it and tears that she wasn't able to shed earlier now escaping. This had been the longest month for her and she wasn't sure she was surviving.

It was at times like this she wishes she was as strong as Georgia had been.

"You know, you should really be at home now. It's freezing and you get sick easy."

Avery's head snapped up in fright, staring at the person who spoke to her. Her eyes widened with shock, her heart beat increasing and her mouth was unhinged at her jaw. _It couldn't be_, Avery thought her eyes roving the figure that spoke, _it was impossible_.

"Uh, Dad?" Stiles stood awkwardly in the doorway of the dinning room in the Stilinski residence, he was unsure of how to approach the subject of Avery with his father. He was beginning to understand that they were in fact very close, something which he himself was slightly jealous of, even though he had absolutely no idea _how_ exactly Avery and his father became 'BFFs'.

His father was pouring over case files which lay on the wooden table, his eyes searching for little clues that will somehow solve the issues and close the cases forever, allowing some of the people involved closure. But when his only son spoke to him, asking for his attention he gave it to him gladly. If the Sheriff had learnt anything with the death of Georgia White, it was definitely that he should treasure his time with his son. Although, the Sheriff had begun to realise over the years that all time spent with Stiles usually amounted in either trouble or injury, for many people.

"What's up?"

Stiles' lip twitched at his fathers attempt at being 'hip'. "I wanted to ask you about Avery McDonald." He smiled at the thought of the odd and suddenly surprisingly violent girl, but it immediately fell when he noticed the disapproving look that his fathers face took on. "What?"

The Sheriff sighed before standing to pour more whiskey into his small glass, "Leave her alone."

Confusion flooded Stiles' face.

"I mean it, Stiles." He took a long sip of his drink, "Stay away from her. She's been through a lot this month, especially this week. She just lost one of the most important people in her life. She does not, under any circumstances, need whatever the hell you did to her hanging over her head." The Sheriff stared his son, who was beginning to look uncomfortable, "Speaking of which; what _did_ you do to her?"

Stiles shook his head, "Nothing, but I do want to have the chance to apologise."

The Sheriff let out a bark of laughter, "Apologise for nothing?" He shook his head, "That girl is like a daughter to me and she has literally been through hell since she was young, so you need to back the hell off." He waved his hand in a shooing motion, glad his son did what he asked for once as he watched Stiles ascend to the stairs.

When Stiles did reach his room he let out a snort of his own amusement, like he would ever _actually_ listen to his father. He, of course, had to work harder to get to her.

But Stiles would admit that he was starting to become intrigued by Avery McDonald. And Stiles always did love an old fashioned mystery.


	6. Chapter 5: There Was A Goat Involved?

Avery, unlike what seemed to be the rest of Beacon Hills and possibly the county too, was unaware of the supernatural shit that went on in the supposedly sleepy town of Beacon Hills. She had not even once considered the idea of things that go bump during the night to be a real thing.

Until now, that is.

Avery had seen something after Georgia's funeral, something that made literally no sense to her, what-so-ever. She had seen something that only the mere idea of there being a supernatural universe could explain, or make her feel like she wasn't _completely_ insane at least.

The poor girl had run home, too shell-shocked to even make it inside her house, her step-father had found her trembling outside the house on the lawn an hour later, sobs wracking her body and Troy had decided she was grief-stricken and should be on bed rest for the entire week.

Whilst on bed rest, after one or two days of apparent shell shock, Avery had gotten to work. She googled everything she could on the matter, ransacking all the bookshelves for anything of importance and even went as far as too sneak out of the house (carefully avoiding Troy, who, of course, worked from home) to run to the library to find material on the matter. But nothing.

Then Avery got to thinking, who the hell would have the reading materials she needed? Who would be so far into that weird shit, that they would have those kind of books?

Derek Hale just honestly had to be the unluckiest werewolf in the history of werewolves, it seemed. With a dead family, no successful relationships, his only friends being his murderous uncle and some random teenagers, on top of that- no job and no idea what the hell he is doing with his life.

Until now, really. It had been months since the last mechanic had 'died' (by the hands of the kanima) and since then all repair on his Camaro had to be done himself, which he did well. Well enough to gain attention from some other people in need of repairing their cars, people who had been willing to pay a handsome amount too.

This is how he ended up using his crumbling family house to house a few cars to repair, using the small (shit) garage to house the fair many tools he had shipped here when he first moved to town and began a small business.

At this specific moment, Derek was looking over a beautiful, but slightly rundown car, an old one at that. It was a gorgeous 1968 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28 belonging to a small, blonde girl whom awkwardly sat in the corner. The engine looked pretty good, Derek had noticed a lot of newer parts sitting slightly uncomfortably in the older model car. Besides the engine, there was little denting, the paint was pretty good and there doesn't seem to be anything honestly wrong with the car-

"Are you a werewolf?"

Derek froze for a split second, before swiftly turning and running at the small girl, flinging her against the black, broken wall.

"I'm going to take that as a yes, then."

Sheriff Stilinski had the worst day ever.

He had woken up late, due to his alarm clock having 'mysteriously' gone missing (he suspected his son to be the cause of the disappearance), then he had broken down in the middle of nowhere and was then forced to literally walk to the station as he had no signal (something that he wished he could blame on his son too, as was his custom by this point, but unfortunately was the fault of the shitty signal that Beacon Hills had) to call someone.

When he did arrive at the station, it was in anarchy.

"What the hell do you mean 'there was a goat involved'?" The Sheriff was 10,000% done with the inhabitants of Beacon Hills. There had been a very public fight on Main Street that had ended with three men injured and the weirdest story to back the violence up. "I'm sorry, but are you actually shitting me right now?!" The Sheriff sighed, rubbing his hand through his hair, then down the back of his neck in agitation before staring at the man in front of him. "You know what? Parish!" The deputy in question answered the Sheriffs call by poking his head around the doorway. "Can you take over here?" Mr Stilinski sent his deputy a look that said 'I am so done' and Parish nodded awkwardly.

"If you would follow me, sir."

"Thank God." There was finally silence, just what he needed-

It was the slam of the door ten minutes later that told the Sheriff that either shit had hit metaphorical fan within the station, or his son (whom the metaphorical shit followed around) had arrived to thoroughly annoy him. Stilinski opened his left eye, only to see the annoying faces of his son, Stiles, and his son-by-everything-but-name, Scott. A loud, annoyed sound was released from the Sheriff's mouth, growing louder for every second that it was resonating.

"Uh, Dad?"

The loud sound continued.

"Sheriff?"

Would this be classed as shouting now?

"DAD!"

All sounds quietened. The Sheriff opened his previously closed eyes to glare annoyed at his son, "What. Do. You. Want?" He felt like this day was never going to end for the him.

"We found a body in the woods." Stiles spoke at a fast pace, "We found it by the lake, there was blood everywhere but the body looks so weird and I think it was murder because of all the blood-" By this point the Sheriff had already darted out of his chair, grabbed his sons and had pulled them along with him.

"Take me there, now." He shouted suddenly to his deputies, "There's a dead body!"

"Sheriff?" Parish had run up to the three, after shaking off a female citizen who 'needed his help'.

"Grab everyone, this goat thing can wait." The Sheriff then proceeded to walk dramatically out of the station, his deputies following but leaving behind Scott and Stiles, whom looked confusedly at each other.

"Goat thing?"

"Can you help me?"

Derek ran a hand through his short black hair as he slowly laid himself against the car he had been working on, already tired and ready to leave the planet. Even when he attempted to earn a decent living for him and his (non-existent) family he was followed around by supernatural bullshit. He honestly wishes sometimes that he had never attempted to help Scott all those years ago; after all, his life would have been way easier.

"Yeah, I can help." His eyes raised to the girl, "I know people that can help too-"

"No! …Just you." The girls voice lowered, her eyes beginning to fill with tears and Derek noticed how she never truly looked in his direction, "I just want things to be normal again."

"Look at me." She did. "Can you see them now?" She nodded. "You're an Auraklet, they see the dead people who stay on Earth as guides, or more well-known; the people with 'unfinished business'. Boom. Done." Derek had to stop hanging around teenagers; he was even beginning to sound like a friggin' douche-bag, such as Stilinski. God, that kid was annoying.

"And I, Avery McDonald, am a Auraklet?"

"Yep."

Definitely too much time with Stilinski.

"Dear God!"

They, the police force of Beacon Hills, had eventually found the dead body that the two teens had previously found. It was pretty much in the middle of no where, but Stiles and Scott refused to explain why they were running around in the middle of the forest during the day. The body was horrific. It was male, in his mid thirties and, judging by his disgusting clothes, a single heterosexual.

But that wasn't what was horrific about the body.

It was grey. As if the body was devoid of any blood, whatsoever. The man also had his eyes open, as if he were still alive- but they were frozen, filled with fear and seemed to frighten all the deputies in witness to the freaky orbs.

The Sheriff let out a deep breath, before waving over the paramedics who were on standby, ready to check over the body and ready to begin the investigation. "Alright boys, let's get a perimetre sorted out, then I want a search ten miles in every direction, looking for anything suspicious." He pulled away, letting his deputies handle it whilst he gestured for Scott and Stiles to come over to him. "Are you two going to tell me what you were doing out here now?"

They froze.

"Just going for a walk." Scott was always a bad liar, but at least he wasn't as bad as Stiles.

"Yep! Just walking about. Fresh air, you know. Lots and lots of fresh air, good for you."

John Stilinski sighed and turned around, refusing to stare at the two for any longer at this point. "Just get out of here!"

"Avery?" Scott was staring at her in shock, after all they were at Derek's, the whole bloody pack was there, ready to talk to the older man about the resent dead body found in the woods- and now this.

Avery smiled widely, still chuckling next to Derek on the hood of her car. Derek was surprisingly funny, Avery found out, sarcastic but funny none the less. "Hello!"

"What are you, uh, doing here?" Stiles was hot under the collar, he was definitely not expecting to see her here and he also wasn't expecting Lydia to possessively grab his arm when he did spot her.

"Me?" Avery laughed, sharing a look with an amused Derek, before standing, "I was just leaving, actually." She grabbed the keys to her car from Derek, smiling at the mildly amused man, before waving goodbye to the pack, "Thank you for the help!"

"Your welcome, come back anytime."

"I will!" The door of the car slammed shut behind her, her smile never dimming though, as she drove out of the decrepit old Hale garage. There was a slightly muffled rev, before the car was completely out of sight.

"What happened in here?" As always, Isaac asks the real questions.

Stiles stared at Derek, with something akin to jealousy in his eyes, but it was Derek's smirk back at him that made his stare turned into a glare.

"Nothing, really."


	7. Chapter 6: The Head Bitch

Meeting up with Derek Hale and then being told all about the supernatural things that go down in Beacon Hills was like a veil finally being pulled over Avery McDonald's eyes. Suddenly things began to make perfect sense, such as the various 'animal attacks', as well as Scott McCall's ever growing 'group of friends' - Avery was told that it's actually called a 'pack' and that Scott was the 'alpha' (which was basically the head bitch). Avery also vaguely wondered if this 'werewolf' thing was why she lost friends in Boyd, Isaac and Erica. The more she thought along that specific train of thought the angrier she got at her once upon a time ago 'friends'.

But things were different now, Avery was different. She could talk to dead people, for one. This was a feat in itself, and honestly, it felt a lot like she should be shipped off to the Jedi Academy immediately - or some shit cause she definitely had 'the force'. _But then again_, Avery thought, _I don't think I would be able to be such a monk, but I also don't want to become the next Vader_. Avery snapped out of her thoughts with a snort, almost laughing out loud at the mere idea of her actually being in a relationship. If she had learnt anything in the past months, it was that she really wouldn't be able to be in a relationship anytime soon.

"Are you going to talk to me, or just stare into space all day?" _Speaking of dead people_.

Georgia was 'sitting' on her bed at the moment, looking ethereal and a lot like

she was floating instead of sitting. Other than the otherworldly glow that radiated from beneath her gorgeous dark skin, she looked almost exactly the same as she did before she died - with the exception of no air tank which she wouldn't need ever again. "I'm kind of waiting for you to leave, if I'm gonna be completely honest." Avery may now be able to see dead people but that did not mean she was one hundred percent okay with this, because it honestly freaked her the hell out still.

"I see you're still ignoring all your problems in life, it's nice to see that even though I'm dead things haven't changed too much." It's amazing how Georgia was still her bitchy friend, even in death.

Avery scoffed loudly, too loudly, and was suddenly thankful that she was home alone after school today (her brother had his fist ballet lesson today and he was beyond excited). "It's amazing that even in death you find time to comment on my need to avoid situations I find emotionally or mentally strenuous."

"Ooh, such a big word!" Georgia scoffed loudly too, imitating Avery condescendingly, "Tell me, did you look that up in dictionary before this conversation?" She was being snide, something she only used to do when Avery was being silly and stubborn (which she was being now, but was too stubborn to admit).

Avery sprung up from the computer chair she was sitting on, managing to knock it over at the same time, before storming over to Georgia loudly. She was very, very happy to be 'alone' in the house right now. "You're dead!" She waved her hands wildly, looking like she was having hand and arm spasms, or something to that effect anyway. "I shouldn't have to deal with this! I buried your body; I gave a eulogy at your _goddamn_ funeral!" Avery spun away dramatically, blonde hair flying behind her, before stomping out of the room and heading in the direction of the kitchen.

Georgia, the ghost that she is, floating behind Avery at a slower pace, before suddenly disappearing and reappearing in the kitchen. Avery was already rifling through the contents of the fridge, hoping to find the double chocolate fudge brownies she made in her last late-night baking session. They were gone, which suggested that her brother's snack at recess today was said brownies. _I'd make an amazing detective_; Avery thought smugly when she discovered a bowl of strawberries behind the unopened carton of milk.

"You realise that you're going to be sick if you eat those?" Georgia was right, Avery couldn't control herself when it came to strawberries, and she had to consume the entire contents of the bowl and would then feel like throwing up twenty minutes later. When Avery didn't respond, Georgia rolled her eyes, "Can you stop ignoring me!?"

Avery thought about it for a moment, before shaking away the thought and continuing with her eating of the strawberries she so cleverly found. She spun on her heel, fully prepared to run away from her problems when a thought flashed through her mind, so she awkwardly turned to Ghost Georgia with an even awkward expression on her face. "When I fully understand what's going on with me and this," she waved wildly above her head, looking as spastic as Stilinski, "then, and only then, will I stop ignoring you. Okay?" Avery didn't bother to even wait for an answer, before she practically ran upstairs.

"Do you think it was nothing?" Stiles and Scott we're currently in the weights room of the school, after said school had finished for the day. Scott was lying on the bench; easily lifting what could possibly be twice his body weight, whilst Stiles awkwardly sat next to him on a bench that he was supposed to lay on, lifting smaller Dumbbells.

"Do I think- What are you talking about?" Scott didn't even pause in his rapid weight-lifting routine to question Stiles. Although Scott should realise by now that whenever Stiles asked him something this vague, they usually ended up doing something dangerous and/or stupid.

"Avery and Derek."

Scott immediately stopped what he was doing, in favour of loud groaning (something he learnt from Papa Stilinski). He sat up, still groaning after safely lifting the weights back onto their hooks, and sat staring at Stiles (with the groaning still commencing). Said groan continued long enough for Stiles to put his own weights down grab a glass of water and grab a towel, which he promptly threw in Scott's face, cutting of the groan after approximately four minutes and twenty seconds. "What is your obsession with her?"

Stiles was startled, and succeeded in dropping the cup he had been previously drinking from, "Obsession? Me?"

"You never stop talking about her, dude." Scott looked at him suddenly, "Do you like her?" He squinted at him in confusion, before smiling tensely, "You do realise that you broke her heart and also; you're kinda in a relationship with the girl you've been 'in love with'," Scott even used quotation marks, as he kind of thought it to be simple infatuation, "since third grade?"

Stiles looked away, knowing that Scott was right, but completely unsure of how to feel about this situation he was suddenly in. Normally Stiles has all the answers that they needed, even if they were dumb and/or stupid answers. "God, what the fuck is going on with me lately?"

Scott was wondering the same thing, if he was being honest.

"I don't know, man." Stiles got ready to stand up, completely ready to leave the weights room when he turned to Scott again, "Do you know what I should do?"

Scott opened his mouth, and then he closed it again and paused, looking deep in thought, before starting again. "You should apologise to Avery, first for missing your date, and secondly for being a dick and not saying sorry sooner." He then smacked Stiles on the back of his head, "Then you should figure out if you actually do like her, then after that you can help me work out _what_ is killing people lately."

Stiles rolled his eyes, which lead to Scott pushing him off the bench he had been sitting on.

"Hello again!" Avery smiled wide as she has pranced into the Hale House, hair pulled into cute pigtails and a polka dotted dress hugging her figure. "Fancy seeing you here!"

"In my house?" Derek asked amused, this was only discernible by the way his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners. "Seems like fate that we meet each other here." Derek had been working on a small VW Bug, one that Avery recognised as Mrs Conway's, the old (53) lady who lived down her street. "What can I do for you?"

Avery strolled around the garage, pretending to not be interested in much that was placed about. "I was wondering, no pressure or anything, if you could further explain my ESP, Sixth-Sense thing." She paused in front of him, a large smile on her face, her eyes blown wide in a puppy dog manner and slightly twirling in her stationary position. Avery looked the picture of innocence, which is why the mischievous glint in her eyes made Derek suspicious of the actions.

"There's a catch, isn't there?" Derek was right, of course, Avery was not feeling this garage scene for such momentous explanation - in a movie this setting would be nothing less than a dinner in a small town. "Does this catch involve other people coming with us?" Avery shook her head, blonde locks flying wildly around her head, lips continuing the pleading pout. "Alright then."

"Son, what are you doing?"

It was a quiet afternoon at the Beacon Hills County Sheriffs office, despite a new body that had been brought in a few days prior (it was entirely drained of its blood as people later discovered), which is why the Sheriff had returned to his home earlier than usual. It was just before dinner time, something the Sheriff finds, usually, very hard to achieve with such a hectic schedule, and the man was considering cooking up quite the home cooked meal. As a person of the male orientation, John was an excellent cooker of meats - he could fry up, or cook a steak with the best of them - which is why he had stopped off at the shops before going home to get food, all in plan to enjoy a nice, quaint dinner with his odd, spastic son.

"Dad?!"

But then Sheriff Stilinski walks in on this - his odd, spastic son sitting in his room, with a cork board full of strong and various photographs, most of them being pictures of Avery's face. John had walked in to see Stiles staring intensely at a certain picture in the middle of the board, one of Avery laughing with her little brother and (dead) best friend at the local park in Beacon Hills, and a look of concentration on his pale, beauty-spotted face. As a father, the Sheriff should certainly be far more concerned that his son could possibly be a serial killer or at the very least a creepy stalker; but then again neither he nor Stiles was exactly 'normal'. Especially Stiles. The Sheriff knew for a fact that the very cork board his son had just been intently staring at usually held stolen pictures of various cases he was working, with small bits of paper attached containing various theories as to who or what could be the cause of the new case.

The Sheriff sighed loudly, something which Stiles began to notice that he did often. "Son, I am going to ask one more time that you leave Avery alone." He eyes his son suspiciously, "What are you doing anyway?"

Stiles was a shitty liar; the only reason he was still alive today is due to the fact that although he's a shitty liar - the people he's lying to are just dumbasses. But, he's still a bad liar, plus this was his dad, so he didn't lie, "I'm trying to figure out if I like Avery McDonald for real. Or if I'm just irrationally jealous of anyone who talks to her and makes her laugh. Although, me liking her would makes sense of why; when she looks at me like I'm scum, I then feel shitty. But then there's also the fact that I'm dating Lydia, who I've been in love with for about half my life, which confuses me also." Stiles was fully prepared to continue with his weirdly honest ramblings, which is why the Sheriff held up his hand in protest.

"Whoa!" The Sheriff now had a feeling of some sort of combination of pride and fear, not to mention guilt and anxiety. "Look, I'm making dinner downstairs, why don't you come down and we can, uh..." He was definitely as awkward as his child, "We can _chat_ about it?"

Stiles smiled small, _his dad was making food? _He felt himself nodding, he needed help with what he was going through - he never was good with emotions after all. "I'd like that."


End file.
